So Your Boyfriend is a Unicorn
by Inherently Flawed
Summary: "We are going to go and live happily ever after in New York, the only city fabulous enough to handle us." Some fluff, some angst, some glitter. Spoilers through 3x02.


Title: So Your Boyfriend is a Unicorn

Rating: T

Spoilers: Through 3x02, but I don't think I really give that much away.

A/N: I don't even know how long it's been since I've written something with the intent to publish. I obsess over Klaine, and I have an extensive headcanon going on (which thankfully is still intact, thusfar). But this is the first story I've managed to both write down _and_ finish. I'm not sure about the story because I feel like it's tonally inconsistent from page to page, but I know if I don't just finish and put it up it will never actually go up. Also, I apologize if there is an excess of italics in here, that's just how it sounded in my head.

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><p>"Oh my God, seriously? I cannot believe I let you sucker me in to helping you with <em>glitter<em>, of all things," Blaine exclaims, swiping furiously at his arms for the hundredth time in two days. He's showered twice and he's still finding glitter embedded in his pores. Kurt looks at him, surprised by the real anger behind what should be teasing words.

"I'm sorry, I thought you understood that when I declared my candidacy, 'boyfriend' became synonymous with 'unpaid labor,'" Kurt replied warily, reminding himself not to sink straight into bitch-mode until he knew what was going on.

"I'm all for campaign posters, but it's been two days, I'm still sparkling like a fucking vampire, and now we just have to start all over anyway."

Yep, that's definitely anger, but Kurt is pretty sure it isn't actually directed at him. Still, he can't help it if a little bit of bitch slips out as he replies. "Well, I _was_ planning on rewarding you for your unpaid labor, but if you're just going to whine…" As Kurt's voice hardness, Blaine's mood softens. He steps gingerly around the pile of art supplies in the middle of the floor and sits next to Kurt on the bed. His disregard for personal space proves that he isn't really angry at his boyfriend, and that he feels badly for snapping. What's pissing him off is the same thing that has had Kurt guarded and tense all day. Blaine slips his fingers in between Kurt's.

In a softer and quieter voice, he tells Kurt, "I'm sorry they fucked up your posters."

Kurt shrugs, the fight draining out of him as he leans into Blaine's warmth. "It's not like I wasn't kind of expecting it." Blaine closes his eyes against the defeat in Kurt's voice. "But I couldn't help hoping, maybe…"

"Kurt," Blaine sighs, pressing his forehead to his boyfriend's temple. "You shouldn't have to. You deserve so much better than this godforsaken town. Soon you'll be out of here, and you'll never have to look back or think about this shit ever again."

"Assuming I get into college." Anxiety sounds through what was meant to break the tension.

Blaine pulls away and waits until Kurt is looking at him before he continues. "Kurt. You are going to get into college. No, listen. Don't scoff, _listen_. You are the smartest kid at that school. You are brave, and intelligent, and passionate, and talented. You are going to get into college, there is no way you won't. It might not be NYADA, but you are _going. _Do you have any idea how many musical theater and fashion design programs there are in New York City alone? Your future is too big and bright for Ohio to hold. You're getting out of this place, I promise you."

Kurt forces himself not to cry. Pathetic though it may sound, it still sometimes takes his breath away to realize he has someone who believes in him, whole-heartedly, undoubtedly, I-know-you-can-do-it-like-I-know-the-sky-is-blue _believes_ in him. It has clearly never crossed Blaine's mind that Kurt will live up to his expectations. And with loving hazel eyes like those to face up to, who would dare to fail?

"We," Kurt whispers. "_We_ are getting out of here. We are going to go and live happily ever after in New York, the only city fabulous enough to handle us."

And there it is again. That tantalizing promise of more, a life with Kurt beyond this interlude of happiness and wishes come true. A _real_ life, in the real world, with privacy and fights and grocery shopping and making love in the morning and deciding where to spend Christmas.

Kurt will have had a year in New York, though – a year in a city full of gay boys who aren't complete dorks, who keep their feet on the floor and sit on furniture instead of the other way around. A year to go to parties and explore the city and take intellectual classes and talk to cultured people and fool around with real men who know what they hell they're doing. But Kurt… Kurt sounds so _sure_. Because Kurt believes in Blaine, and Blaine believes in Kurt. And Kurt will call him at night to talk, and sometimes Kurt will call him during the day because he just has to describe to Blaine how amazing everything is. Kurt will come home for breaks (and maybe a long weekend before Blaine's birthday). Blaine will visit Kurt (even though the money in his bank account was definitely not intended to be a spend-a-sexy-weekend-in-New-York-with-his-boyfriend slush fund).

They'll look back on all of this and – maybe they won't laugh, but they won't cry anymore, either.

"Yeah. We will."

It's a promise that really can only be sealed one way, so they kiss, again and again until each kiss blends into the next, until the knot of anger and stress and sadness unties from their hearts. Until Burt comes in and catches them at it.

"Oh. Sorry. I just wanted to see how the, uh, poster making was... you, uh, you boys need anything?" Burt looks determinedly away from Kurt and Blaine's flaming faces, his eyes landing on the only other thing of interest in the room – the untouched pile of poster-making supplies. "I'm sure that if you need any… help… Finn would be willing…" Burt loiters awkwardly for a painful moment, unwilling to run away (because this is his house and his rules, and he will not leave just because he did his job as a parent and caught them making out, since they knew very well the door was open in the first place, thank _you_), but having no good reason or desire to actually stay.

Kurt coughs. "We've got it, Dad, thanks. We were… just getting started." Really, the only thing to do in this situation is lie. What's he going to do, explain to his father that he and his boyfriend were properly ending a very intense and vulnerable conversation – _on his bed?_

"Right. Just… let me know if you need anything. Dinner, or…anything." Finally, _finally_, he leaves, pushing the door open even wider on his way out.

"The awkwardness of that moment was not proportional to the inappropriateness of the act," Blaine finally complained, breaking their mortified silence. They've been caught making out by Burt before – twice a week, once – and Kurt thought that maybe his reaction would have adjusted. Blaine is thinking the same thing, though he thinks a guilty conscience is to blame. The last time they'd been caught, they'd only gotten off together once before, and for the most part, making out was as far as they'd gone. But as they'd waded farther into the alluring sea of teenage hormones, they'd become much more careful. Burt does own a gun, after all. Though today they were only kissing, Blaine couldn't help but panic that Burt would see more in that simple act than they were ready to reveal.

"We should, uh…"

"We should make posters." Kurt agrees, reading the unspoken end of his sentence. And the spell is broken (even though it isn't, and can't ever really be).

They spend the rest of the evening sprawled on Kurt's floor, decorating, stenciling, gluing away. There is a run to Kinko's an hour in, for more copies of Kurt's face. They tone down the glitter, and respectfully cede Brittany's unicorn campaign strategy back to her, even though Kurt is still a little bitter about the betrayal. The posters are easier to make now that they don't have to add a horn to Kurt's forehead on every single one. This time, they make a ton, and set aside a quarter of them to take to school tomorrow. The rest will be in reserve, and if they have to make new posters once a damn week until the election, so be it. The small-minded Neanderthals of McKinley will not get them down.

They will fight tooth and nail for this election, and they will get Kurt into college. They will plan their future and search for their dream apartment when they can't stand being in Ohio one more day. They will have an amazing year, together.

Blaine is still annoyed about the glitter, though.


End file.
